Chapter Thirty-nine
I parked in the small lot beside the two-story seafoam green stucco courthouse and went up the front walk between bougainvillea bushes to the main entrance, where I sent my bag through the x-ray machine and went through the metal detector. The two guards said nothing, just gestured toward a black kiosk with white letters when I asked for directions. I found the room number for the courtroom on the kiosk and took a long flight of stairs past an open-air courtyard. I looked down over its stone picnic tables and small Christmas palms as I made my way up.
I got to the courtroom in time to see Ava led in from the exterior hallway in an orange jumpsuit three sizes too big for her and handcuffs. Her eyes were hollow, and her hair was dull and flattened against her head. She’d pulled it back in a low ponytail. She’d probably gotten less sleep than I did last night.
I slipped in behind her and the guards, then scooted into the second row behind the defense table beside Rashidi. He introduced me to Gill and Anita, his voice soft but carrying. We all shook hands. The anxiety coming off Anita was palpable. Hell, she could probably say the same about me. It was different for Anita than for me, though; Ava was my friend, but she was Anita’s daughter. A daughter who looked like a lighter version of herself. Anita was a beautiful woman.
Ava had taken a seat beside a short, slight West Indian man. Duke Ellis, I presumed.
“All rise,” the bailiff commanded as the judge entered the room.
We did. The judge was a gray-haired local woman of the Taino body type that Doug had described to me. Her robes made her body look square. She motioned for us to sit after she’d lowered herself into a chair behind her bench.
Ava looked over her shoulder at the four of us clustered together. I shot her a thumbs up. She scrunched her mouth to the side and nodded, uncertain.
In less time than it had taken for the officers to arrest her, the judge led the prosecutor and Ava’s attorney through her plea of not guilty and set the bail at 1.2 million dollars. Duke put up a spirited argument in her defense, for all the good it did. After devoting only five minutes to the process, the judge slammed down her gavel and walked out. Wam bam, thank you, ma’am.
Ava remained seated. I saw her shoulders heaving. I glanced at Anita. Hers were, too.
Duke turned around. He noticed me, the stranger to him, and said, “You must be Attorney Connell? Duke Ellis.”
I adopted his island convention for addressing members of the bar. “Katie Connell. Nice to meet you, Attorney Ellis.” I stood up and leaned across the intervening row to shake his small hand. His palm was callused, and I knew instantly my father would like him.
Duke asked Ava’s parents, “Were you able to find a source to put up the bail money?”
Gill and Anita gripped each other’s hands so hard their knuckles were white. Gill looked into his wife’s face and answered without breaking eye contact. “We weren’t. We’re going to keep trying.”
“It’s a big number,” Duke said. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you find a way to do this.”
At that moment, the guards led Ava back out. She looked at us as she passed by in the aisle, her eyebrow raised in a question. Her father said, “Soon, honey. We’re working on it.” Her shoulders slumped.
“I can cover it,” a voice said.
Shit. It was my voice.
“What?” Gill asked.
“Really?” Anita said, a sob in her throat.
Rashidi reached out and took my hand. He squeezed.
“Um, yeah. I have the cash. It will tie up all that I have, though. My house, my entire life’s savings, my inheritance from my parents. I need y’all to promise me she won’t jump bail.” My voice trailed off. Too late to back out, no matter how much I already regretted saying this. I tried to smile, but it was a weak effort.
“I nail her feet to the floor if I have to,” Rashidi said. “It a good thing you’re doin’.”
Now the thank yous spilled out, stepping all over each other to be heard. The walls closed in on me. I stood up.
“Well, alrighty then, I’ll just go take care of it, before I go home.” My face felt brittle, so I didn’t try to smile again in case I cracked it. I made my way out, my gait stiff and jerky.
What the hell had I just done?
~~~
Saving Grace (What Doesn’t Kill You, #1): A Katie Romantic Mystery Page 41
